


Songs In Our Hearts And Hearts On Our Lips

by ForgottenChesire



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slow Build, headcanons abound
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:26:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1689953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenChesire/pseuds/ForgottenChesire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a prompt fic from overtherisingstar's  Bagginshield prompts. The prompt is:</p><p>Both have Heartsongs (going off littleblackdog's heartsong concept of hearing your soulmate singing in your sleep and recognizing them when you meet them by their singing), Bilbo/fem!Bilbo hears Thorin sing first and keeps chickening out of telling him or singing to him, until one day he/she dares. My idea is that every race has a different way of recognizing their soulmate, elves see a red thread tying them to their soulmate, humans feel the spark of a first touch, dwarves have Heartsongs, and for hobbits, their first word is their soulmate’s name. They are never left alone, once they’ve been born, until they’ve said it, out of fear that it’ll be missed and they’ll never find their soulmate. All the races have their own ways of discovering their soulmates, but hobbits are unique in that they adopt the way of whichever race their soulmate is of. If their soulmate is a hobbit, it’s the first word principle. If a hobbit’s soulmate is a dwarf, they’ll have a Heartsong (the dwarf’s way of recognizing his soulmate doesn’t change. Only the hobbit’s way changes.) and so on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Setting The Stage

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like this Overtherisingstar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Has been rewritten and hopefully made better!**

Hobbits have a particular way of finding their Soulmate- or Second Heart as they like to call it- compared to the rest of the world. While everyone else has a lasting or immediate way of finding their Mate- humans with their shocks and Elves with their red strings- a Hobbit's first word is the first name of their Heart. Because of this young faunts are watched constantly, their parents fearing that if they miss the first word their child will never find their Soulmate. If one knows the politics that run the self-proclaimed simple people; knows about the Thains and the Masters and Respectability. If they know about the division between Tooks and Baggins' and many other Hobbit families they will understand the absolute scandal that was Bungo Baggins first word being 'Belladonna' and Belladonna Took's first word being 'Bungo' of all names. A Baggins and a Took have happened before but never from the main stock of the two families. Some of the others had laughed, they had nudged a gray-faced Mungo Baggins and said: _“Opposites do attract after all, and maybe your boy will make a Respectable Hobbit out of a Took yet!”_ Despite all the negative tongue wagging and gossip mills that hounded their every step, Bungo and Belladonna would go on to be an inseparable couple. Bungo had to work extra hard to get Belladonna to look at him. Because Belladonna liked adventuring thank you very much and no soft soled, fussy, stick in the mud Heart would make her stop. It is imperative to know that she never called Bungo that to his face- contrary to have she behaved in front of her siblings in friends she did like Bungo, she just didn't want to be stuck at home. Bungo understood of course so during one of Belladonna's many adventures he built her a gift, he built her Bag End.

 

“Bag End is yours whether or not you marry me. Forcing you to stay would be like clipping a bird's wings but I built you a home to come back to,” he told her when she got back.

 

Now marrying someone, not your Soulmate is very, very, very rare- almost as rare as a Hobbit having a Big Person as a Soulmate- but it happens. Sometimes the Valar get it wrong and the Soulmate isn't the greatest love of their life but the greatest friend. Many thought that would be the case for Bungo and Belladonna, that they would be friends but Bungo's clear love and understanding of her free spirit won her over. She went on one last- _just for a little bit Gandalf, I want to have time with my soon to be husband_ \- adventure with the Gray Wizard. She came back with a bouquet of apple blossoms, asters, daisies, forget-me-nots, pansies and red roses all tied together with ivy picked from the bespelled gardens of Rivendell and charmed by Gandalf to never wilt. And while it may not have been pleasing to the eyes, the message it conveyed brought many to tears. Belladonna settled down for a bit, living a simple life with her husband. The gossip mills died down and soon Belladonna gave birth to Bilbo. When no other children seemed to be forthcoming the mills started up again. The Hobbit ladies in their dresses of bright colors and fluffy frills began to whisper of a barrenness that comes with going outside of the Shire's borders.

 

“ _Don't you know, she went all the way to Rivendell once,”_ they whispered and cried until Laura Baggins spoke up to a small group. What she said to them no one rightly knows but the whispers were kept in locked doors and they pretended not to see Bungo and Belladonna leaving one night. The little family went on an adventure of their own and when they came back all was still. Unless you were Camelia Sackville-Baggins but even she was grateful for Belladonna's Tookishness when Fell Winter came. But, that is a story for later discussion. What is important is that while his parent's words caused a scandal, little Bilbo's caused his parents worry and heartache. For Bilbo's first word was not a name, no it was 'dwarf' which sounded like 'warf' until the next time Belladonna sat down with a picture book of the outside world and Bilbo pointed excitedly to a picture of a dwarf and said his word proudly.

 

They fear for a long time that their precious Bilbo has no Second Heart. That he will be alone forever. Then his fifth birthday rolls around and they realize that instead of being Heartless he just has one of a different race. For little Bilbo comes to his father after everyone has gone and asks why he always hears singing in his dreams. Bungo hasn't a clue- of all the outside races he knows humans best because of his business- so Bungo turns to his wife.

 

“Dwarrows,” she tells her husband with a heavy heart, “Dwarrows have Heart Songs instead of Heart Words.”

 

Dwarrows who are very tight lipped about everything, Dwarrows who would be angry that she knew about their Songs, Dwarrows that don't come to the Shire. Part of her wondered if it would have been better for her son to be Heartless. Still, she made sure to encourage her son's Tookishness even though she doubted that he would ever leave the Shire without a shove. No Hobbit can say she never gave her son a fighting chance. And while his wife balanced teaching his son about the world outside and having another baby- this often included more trips to Rivendell for potions to help with fertility- Bungo taught his son the fine art of Respectability. They were a happy family but happiness is fleeting and winters are cold and harsh. At the young age of twenty-two, the spring after Fell Winter, Bilbo Baggins buries the hope of meeting his Heart with his father and tries to prepare himself for the loss of his mother. He settles for hearing his Heart sing in his dreams, soothing away the crippling loss with words he can't understand. Belladonna lasts twelve years- just long enough to see her son reach his coming of age- before passing and leaving Bilbo alone in Bag End. That is until a certain Wizard shows up after years of absence unexpectedly.


	2. Getting Ready

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been rewritten! Yay!**

It's late at night and Bilbo is fluttering around his room, he may have fibbed when he told Gandalf he wasn't going along. His hands falter and stop as he packs his bag- the moment he heard _**him**_ sing he knew, oh Yavanna he knew that Thorin was one who featured in every one of his dreams- and shivers. Hearing the voice that has been keeping him company for so long in person was amazing that it hurt to remember how their first meeting hadn't gone well. He had told that confounded Wizard no when he first came to him but did the blasted Wizard listen? No! Of course, he hadn't. So instead of having a feast waiting for guests to fall upon, he only had his own simple dinner of fish and potatoes. With a cringe Bilbo starts packing again, he can admit in the comfort of his own room that he hadn't reacted in the best way, fretting about as he did but those were the only things he had left of his parents. When Gandalf had asked when such material started to matter so much to him Bilbo almost snapped at the Wizard. Had almost screamed that dollies and chairs became so important when he had to watch his mother fade away for twelve long years, when he watched- they just mattered. Thankfully he had more control that time then he did with meeting Thorin and he kept his mouth shut. Letting the Wizard have his illusion of a happy life is better than explaining the darker thoughts in his mind to someone who liked to disappear for years on end.

 

He still has nightmares about that winter. About the nights where wolves and other things howled. The Rangers and Gray Wizard fought back the wolves and dark things and for a moment the grieving family had hoped their friend would stop in. Visit them, take away their pain for a bit. But of course, he didn't. And because of that the Wizard doesn't know and won't if Bilbo has a say in it. He pushes back those dark thoughts and lets a small smile inch onto his face. He's going on an adventure! An adventure like what his mother always wanted to take him on, one with Dwarrows and Wizards. He doesn't notice the tears dripping down his face as he packs; his mother's soft melodic voice talking to him and her dark curly hair flashing at the edge of his vision, his father's deep alto voice cuts in at times, always the Respectable Hobbit reminding him of practical things his shadow tickling at his vision. They both remind him to write up two copies of his will- it's a Dangerous Adventure- and he has to write letters. One to the Thain, one to Hamfast will share it with Lobelia and one to Drogo should he inherit Bag End. With his pack is ready and set aside, he sets to writing the letters and wills. Hamfast the wonderful Hobbit that he is rises early and Bilbo can get him to sign the two wills as a witness and see if Hamfast would mind delivering the letters.

 

His heart is light as he lays down for bed. The voices that matter most to him are mixing in the air around him. His mother's, his father's and his Heart's- _Thorin's_ \- voices all mixing together in a hodgepodge cacophony that sends him to sleep. The lullaby slowly melts away to just _Thorin_ singing in his ear like a warm blanket. It's low and mournful but still beautiful and soothing. He rises with the sun and makes his way quietly outside, looking for his best friend and gardener. The sun casts a beautiful light on all hills. Hamfast is standing in his garden already at work. A relieved smile lights Bilbo's face and he hurries over. Dearest Hamfast- with his kind smile and hidden pranks- smiles at him and stops what he is doing.

 

“Why good morning Master Bilbo! You are out early,” he calls out as Bilbo gets closer.

 

“Good morning Hamfast. I have a request to make my friend,” Bilbo speaks formally and his friend's smile dims a bit, concern lighting his eyes. He listens attentively as Bilbo tells him as he can about the Adventure- and in both Hobbits minds it deserves a capital 'a'- he is going on and what he needs his best friend to do. Part of Hamfast wants to meet the Dwarrows who are going to be sweeping his friend off on this mad-capped adventure, the other part doesn't care is just happy that Bilbo is more like his old self.

 

“Aye, I can do that for you, Master Bilbo... You do realize that Lobelia is going to be angry right? Won't be surprised if she moves in and messes everything up while you are gone to show you just how much she disagrees with this.”

 

Bilbo chuckles softly and nods his head.

 

“I quite expect to come home to an empty smial and a treasure map demanding I find my own furniture.”

 

“And all of your silverware missing,” Hamfast adds with a grin. It won't be the first time Lobelia has passive-aggressively taught 'her boys' a lesson in manners. These lessons have decreased with her marriage but are no less severe.

 

“My mother's fine china hanging from the ceiling,” Bilbo shakes his head in merriment. The two share a laugh before bidding each other goodbye. He needs to cook breakfast for the Dwarrows and himself still. What a pleasant surprise they will have when they wake.

 


	3. And So They Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **This has been rewritten!**

With his business with Hamfast done, Bilbo returns to Bag End. He is surprised when the smell of cooked food tickles his nose and he follows it eagerly to the kitchen where the rotund Dwarf- Bombur if he recalls right- is cooking.

 

“I hope you don't mind,” the Dwarf says gesturing to the growing pile of cooked food. Bilbo waves his hand with a smile.

 

“It's quite alright. Is this the leftovers or did you find my other pantries?”

 

It's leftovers Bilbo finds out so he shows Bombur the other two pantries. As they cook they begin to discuss the different types of cooking and a wonderful friendship starts to bloom. Bombur watches the little Hobbit and is proud that he placed his money on the Hobbit changing his mind. The others slowly emerge from the rooms that Bilbo gave them and as they watch Bilbo flit around his kitchen, cooking, plating up food and packing the none perishables there is muttered confusion and exchanging of coins. Thorin lets out a few barbs that Bilbo dutifully ignores. Balin spends his breakfast looking over the contract that Bilbo signed after he had written his letters and smiles at the Hobbit.

 

“Welcome to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield.”

 

And with that Bilbo seals his fate and starts in motion something even bigger than he knows.

* * *

 

 

Bilbo stares in distaste at the ponies before him. The Dwarrows ignore the obvious distaste on not only Bilbo's face but the other Hobbits faces.

 

“We're taking ponies?!?” he demands, his voice squeaks toward the end but thankfully no one comments on it.

 

“Yes Hafling, what did you expect?”

 

Bilbo glares at Thorin, wondering if maybe he was wrong about the singing.

 

“No thank you. I can wal– Good heavens put me down!”

 

Fili and Kili, the two that picked him up to place him on the infernal creature that is now following the rest of the ponies laugh.

 

“Come now Bilbo, it's not that bad.”

 

And maybe it wouldn't be if he wasn't allergic to ponies. Anytime he and his parents left the Shire it was a nightmare. His nose ran and it clogged and he sneezed. Just horrid. He's working himself into a tizzy regretting his impulsive decision to follow his Second Heart and searching for his handkerchief. Only, he can't find it!

 

“Where is the blasted thing? I must have forgotten it. Can't believe that I forgot my han– Achoo!”

 

He groans and sniffles tiredly.

 

“Here Bilbo, use this!” a voice calls out right before something hits his face. It's a strip of what Bilbo believes to be a shirt.

 

“Thank you Bofur,” he manages to mutter before he sneezes again. Oh yes, this Adventure is going to go swimmingly.


	4. From The Mountain To The Hills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin isn't a romantic and he isn't an optimist, he leaves those things to his nephews but he still has hopes. Hopes like getting his home back from the dragon, his family being safe and sound and maybe if Mahal smiles on him finding his One. But like most things, there are bumps in the road. One of those bumps is Bilbo Baggins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The other chapters of this story have been given a spit shine if you wanna look over them**

Thorin sighs softly from his place by the fire. Dis is at his side, glaring but defeated. The quest to reclaim their home will go as planned even if she is not a part of it. No amount of reassurances will make her happy. For there is no guarantee that he will make it back much less her boys. He reaches over and grabs her hand.

 

“If I trusted anyone else as much as I do you to rule in my place I would love to have you by my side. I would love to have you watching my back,” he whispers softly hating how her face falls.

 

“I know big brother. But grandfather promised to come back just like you are and he didn’t.”

 

He flinches slightly. They watch the tame crackling fire, hand in hand.

 

“Do you remember brother, when we were young? When you, Frerin and I would gather just like this and try to sing along with our Songs?” she asks softly.

 

“Aye. You always got twisted because you had two voices. Frerin used to laugh when that happened.”

 

They smile and Dis squeezes Thorin’s hand.

 

“When the mountain is ours again, we should do that with Fili and Kili.”

 

It’s as close to a blessing as he will get. She’s trusting him to come back when fate as taught her that such faith ends in pain. He stands, presses a kiss to her hand and goes to his bed. Behind him, he hears her singing, the soft lilting words of her last Song. When they were young their mother had rejoiced, said it was good luck to have two Heart Songs. And when she learned that all three of her children heard the same language she rejoiced so sure that her babies would find their Hearts at the same time. But she was a romantic and Thorin knows the chances of finding his Heart so late in life is slim. He falls asleep wrapped up in what appears to be a drinking song and allows himself to smile.

 

Breakfast, when he wakes, is somber. The boys realizing their mother’s mood keep quiet and allow her to dote on them. Dwalin and surprisingly enough Ori is there along with Balin.

 

“We’ve gotten everyone to sign the contracts that are going,” Balin says as he butters a biscuit.

 

“Who all chose to come?”

 

“Gloin and Oin of course.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Ori and his brothers. Dwalin and I and… who were the last three?”

 

The last question is aimed at Ori who perks up.

 

“The Ur’s sir. Bombur, Bofur and Bifur.”

 

From the corner of his eyes, he sees Fili stiffen along with Dis. The Ur’s are distantly related to Vili- one of Dis’ Ones- which would explain Dis’ dislike of them going but not Fili’s.

 

“Fili?”

 

Fili shakes his head and pushes back his chair.

 

“I need to finish packing.”

 

Thorin sighs softly but doesn’t call his oldest nephew back. Instead, he focuses on Balin.

 

“Thirteen men then.”

 

“Aye, and it has Oin in a fuss. Hopefully, the council meeting gains us some more men.”

 

Dis excuses herself from the table and those left watch her walk away. It sets the tone for the rest of the meal. Much needs to be done before he can leave and he will be going alone. It makes him feel older than he is to have to beg for help that should be freely given. No Dwarf should be without a home. Surely the others will see that. They have to see that.

* * *

 

They don’t see it and tell him that he is on his own. It hurts to be turned away but he understands where some of them come from. Taking on a dragon is not something one does lightly. Dain had looked pained when he told Thorin he couldn’t help, that the risk was too steep. Many often said that he was the most level-headed of all the Durin males and it showed when he did not react to Thorin’s harsh words. Cowards he had called them, and now that he has had time to calm down he realizes that he was harsh. The others have their own kingdoms to worry over without his.

 

He looks around at the green sloping hills and sighs. The beauty of the land around him is nothing compared to his home, compared to the memories he plans on reclaiming. With Gandalf on his side, his quest cannot fail. The deeper he gets into the green land the less sure he is of the choice the Gray Wizard has made for his burglar. The inhabitants of the land- Halflings- are soft creatures used to comfort and food. It’s apparent from their large bellies and scared eyes as they gaze upon him. They flee from him before he can ask directions, the map Tharkun gave him is useless. The flowers, though bright in color, irritate his nose and his mood dampers even further.

 

He’s passed the same place twice before something catches his interest. Little Halfling children staring at him and talking in hushed tones. The sun is lowering, casting an orange glow to the land. It’s mysterious and if Thorin truly believed in portents this would be one. For the children do not talk in Westron but instead in a language that echoes in his mind. He approaches them carefully and most of them flee. Only two stand tall and look him in the eyes.

 

“I am in need of some help,” he says, internally wincing at the growl that is his voice but the children stare at him in awe.

 

“Whatcha need?” asks the tiniest, a soft tint to the voice makes Thorin guess that the child is a girl. Hesitantly he shows her the map and the girl lights up.

 

“He wants ta go ta Bilbo’s place,” she cries and suddenly he is swarmed. The little ones tell him about this Bilbo, how he is an odd Hobbit that the others say not to go around but always has snacks for the little ones.

 

“He’s cursed,” one little child says. They are leading him to the smial.

 

“Nuh uh. Ain’t no such thing.”

 

“Is so! I heard great cousin Camelia say so. His whole family is cursed cause they fornycated wit Tooks.”

 

“What does fornycated mean?”

 

Thorin splutters and coughs when the children look at him for an explanation, He manages to convince them that it something they will learn about when they are older. It doesn’t take long for the children to lead him in the right direction and night to fall completely. By the end of it, there is only one child left and he- or Thorin thinks this one is a boy- waves goodbye before popping into one of the many smials. Even from where he is he can hear the merriment going on in one of the smials. It’s on top of a great hill and has a green painted door with a glowing mark.

 

His impression of the burglar is not a good one and neither are the following ones where the curly haired halfling proves to be as soft hearted as Thorin feared he would be. Thorin isn’t at all surprised when Bilbo faints at Bofur’s crude description of a dragon. He conveniently ignores the little voice in the back of his mind that says that Bilbo is cute. That the Halfling has potential, that all he needs is a bit of forging. When they sing that night, after all is said and done and Thorin feels so lost he keeps his eyes on his nephews. Both of them are leaning into each other though their eyes aren't on him alone. Kili, Mahal bless him, keeps glancing over at the huddle of Ri’s.

* * *

 

The Halfling is coming with them. He glowers at the small man and makes childish jabs all morning. He doesn’t want the small, soft, cute, weak, button-nosed Halfling to come with them! This is going to be a long journey.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think?  
> Flower meanings:  
> apple Blossom promise  
> aster contentment  
> daisy innocence  
> forget-me-not remember me forever  
> pansy loving thoughts  
> red roses passionate love  
> ivy fidelity


End file.
